The First Ting They Ever Publicly Agreed On
by jtsbbsps-dk
Summary: H/D, EWE and “8th” year. McGonagall lifted her wand and Draco fortified himself, in what he thought of as his last moments of freedom. Well, let’s see if I can go to hell and come back alive… It’s not like I haven’t been there before. Slash. R&R please.
1. The Detention

**Title:** The First Thing They Ever Publicly Agreed On  
**Author:**jtsbbsps-dk  
**Beta(s):** Amaterazu Setsuko, guest-beta: clarex-ama.  
**Pairing:**Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy  
**Rating:**R/M – for later chapters, not nearly there yet!  
**Warnings:** Slash, explicit M/M sex later on.  
**Disclaimer:**Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers and so on and so forth. I own nothing, except a perverted imagination and a laptop. This fic is only written for fun, no profit is made. Author is not responsible for underage readers.

**Summary:** H/D, EWE and "8th" year. McGonagall lifted her wand and Draco fortified himself, in what he thought of as his last moments of freedom. _Well, let's see if I can go to hell and come back alive… It's not like I haven't been there before._ When our boys find themselves in the most unusual detention, they can only agree on one single thing.

**Authors Notes****: **This fic is dedicated to two people. First, Amaterazu Setsuko for magically emerging in my life and sharing my interest in HP and fanfiction. Without your enthusiasm and company during boring math-classes, this would never have been written. Thank you! Secondly, to the wonderful clarex-ama for amazing e-mails and many laughing fits. I wouldn't know what to do without your encouragement! And thanks a lot for reading this over, both of you!

_T__houghts_

"spoken words"

--- change of POV

**...::Chapter One: The Detention::..**

Chapter rating: K+

_Words: 2348_

A bright red beam narrowly missed its target. Harry was returning the fire the next instant. _Why does Malfoy still have to be such a pain in the arse? The war is over, but I guess some things never change._ His shield-charm bounced off the blonde's curse and shot it back towards him. _Can't he just understand that NOBODY thinks calling Hermione "mudblood" is cool anymore?_

Their duel was intensifying, and the crowd that had gathered around them was beginning to draw back from fear of backfiring spells. Suddenly one voice cut though the surrounding noise.

"Potter, Malfoy, stop this instant! Accio wands!"

---

_Great, just great _Draco thought bitterly when he saw his borrowed wand fly towards the headmistress. _I'm so getting expelled now, won't mom rejoice?_

He remembered all too clearly the strict wording McGonagall had used in the letter he had received just two weeks before start of term. It gave him the unique opportunity to come back to Hogwarts and finish his education, IF he could behave.

_Why does it have to be__ so hard to get rid of old habits? That blasted little word just had to slip off my tongue and of course _Draco was mentally rolling his eyes towards the ceiling_ was fate so cruel that Potter, of all people, overheard. _But the Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Die had actually not been that mean, when he had asked Draco not to use that particular word,he thought, reflecting back at earlier.

But it is Potters own fault that Draco had answered in such an offending way, decided Draco If Potter only wasn't so bloody annoying. And didn't have that way to get under his skin and send his blood straight to the point of boiling with a mere gaze and a sharp tone from his voice, which nobody else had, they wouldn't be in this mess.

They had been ordered to follow the headmistress to her office, and Draco was currently staring at her back while walking along a corridor. He could feel Potters strong, blazing gaze on him from behind and he wondered why he hadn't caught fire yet.

---

_Stupid, arrogant, blasted git! Why d__oes he keep making me so angry, I just HAVE to begin shooting spells at him? Stupid temper! He can really get under my skin like no one else, that blond, pig-headed, egoistic, dim-witted… _Harry kept soundlessly swearing at said blasted git all the way towards McGonagall's office, while staring fiercely into the back of Malfoy's neck, determined to burn a hole in the wanker with the mere power of his eyes, now that he was in lack of a wand.

Finally reaching the stone gargoyle, the headmistress said "Night lamp" and Harry immensely missed Dumbledore's lighter and sweeter passwords. It made the whole 'you're-wanted-at-the-headmasters-office-experience' a lot less terrifying. When they entered the office, Harry's eyes immediately sought Dumbledore's portrait. He soundlessly sighed in relief as he saw the characteristic twinkle behind the half-moon spectacles. He sat in one of the two chairs opposite the desk, McGonagall had motioned them towards. But then again, Harry thought, it also had the I-have-a-hidden-agenda-that-I-find-amusing perspective to it, and that rather worried Harry and he twisted slightly, forcing his gaze away from Dumbledore, as the current head of the school coughed a little and folded her hands on the table.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, now that you are both of age and there is no longer a war between you I had seriously expected a better behaviour. I had foolishly hoped you would be able to reconcile. It is, though, my deepest wish for the both of you to be able to remain at Hogwarts, but this behaviour cannot continue. I am left with only one solution". She stretched her back against the wooden armchair and placed her hands with fingers widespread and palms upon the desk, looking sternly at the boys. Harry caught himself thinking:

_I'm doomed._

The reason was the combination of the merciless and unbending look in McGonagall's eyes and the, now even more outspoken, twinkling in Dumbledore's, which was accompanied by the corners of his mouth twitching upwards rather obviously. "This special kind of detention has rarely been used and only in hopeless cases. But it's always had a satisfying outcome, so I dearly hope it will prove itself infallible yet again."

Now Harry was terrified. Not because of McGonagall's words, although they weren't exactly nice to hear, but because he now held the knowledge that Dumbledore had the ability to look…

…

_smug_!

There was simply no other word for it.

"In 24 hours, you will be chained to each other"

"THAT'S THE MEANEST DETENTION IN THE HISTORY OF HOGWARTS!" They roared.

---

Draco felt, as if he were falling. _24 hours with Hero-Potter!?! I'm going to die!_

How could he otherwise, if only the mere thought of it made him dizzy? But luckily his white-knuckled hands were squeezing the headmistress table, was it his last life-line.

"Even though it is nice to see that you can agree on something, would you both kindly sit back down, so I could give you the practical informations". Then Draco realised that both he and Potter had subconsciously stood up, while expressing their outrage. As soon as they both sat down, Potter began his protests.

"But what about lunch? How are we to sit at two different…" McGonagall interrupted him.

"Don't worry about such nonsense, you will have a private two-person table when dining in the great hall and nothing practical shall come between me and this detention, it has been done before and I intend to do it again! Now, if you both will calm down… No, Mister Malfoy, I intend to tell your mother about this… so I can conjure the chain"

_How had she known __I was going to ask her, to spare my mother of the news? She has enough to worry about already (such as trying to help Father survive in Azkaban) and doesn't need the knowledge of me getting myself almost expelled. _Draco took a deep breath, trying to calm his boiling rage. _Okay, I need to keep my eyes on the goal: not getting expelled. It's the rest of my life on the line here, 'cause no-one would seriously consider expelling the Golden Boy._

He ripped himself out of the flowing thought-stream, as their headmistress rose and went around the large desk, drawing her wand. He glared out of the corner of his eyes and saw Potter opening and closing his mouth several times, but at last he shook his head, as if he realised that _this_ was one thing he couldn't avoid. _Well, at least _Draco though _he'll hate this as much as me…_

McGonagall lifted her wand and Draco fortified himself, in what he thought of as his last moments of freedom. _Well, let's see if I can go to hell and come back alive… It's not like I haven't been there before._

She spoke an incantation and suddenly his left ankle was very cold. Draco looked down to face his doom and his eyes followed a thick iron chain emerging from his left ankle, twisting slightly over the floor only to disappear under the lower right trouser leg of the Savior.

"Your first assignment…" McGonagall started, but was interrupted by Draco. "Assignment? _Assignment?_ Is this" he gestured towards the chain "not punishment enough?" _Crap, why can't I keep my mouth shut? That was what started this mess. If I keep this up I'm definitely getting expelled._ Draco groaned inwardly, but shut his mouth securely, so he wouldn't make yet another mistake. Unexpectedly, Potter started to support him. _Well, that's a first, but in this case we want the same. Survival._

"Professor, this _is_ already a harsh punishment, there's really no need…"

"Potter! Malfoy! If you continue to interrupt me, I _will_ make the time-span longer!" That efficiently shut them up. "As I said, your first assignment will be answering these questions", she waved her wand and to identical rolls of parchment emerged out of thin air "and reading each others answers afterwards. And I'll let you know that each and every time you try to lie, the parchment will glow red and the lie will be erased, and this specific assignment plays a vital part in this particular detention, so there's no way of getting around it."

Draco swallowed. Was he going to be forced to spill his secrets to Potter, of all people? _God, I hope it's some innocent questions..!_

"Since you will need to be doing this during lunch…" With another wave of her wand a plate of sandwiches appeared on the desk. "Oh, and you'll be needing quills and ink…" As she spoke, the items were in front of them on the desk. "And now, I will go to lunch and I expect my office to be in the same spotless condition when I return! You are not to leave the room until you are further instructed." She gave them a look that killed all objections, and went out the door, closing it behind her.

Draco saw Potter crossing his arms on the desk and resting his head on them with a groan. Half a minute passed, where Draco just sat in the chair, gazing stubbornly forward, desperately hoping to wake up from this nightmare. Then he heard Potter sigh and saw him reach for one of the two scrolls. _So he's just going to ignore me for as long as possible? Well, I'm not totally opposed to that._ He snatched the other scroll and dipped the nearest quill in the conjured inkbottle.

---

Harry gazed down towards the first question.

_What is your full name?  
Harry James Potter, he wrote, giving a small sigh of relief. __There could have been worse questions._

_Where did you grow up?  
4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey._

_Who are/is/__were (in case you are of age) your parent(s) and/or guardian(s)? _Harry sighed. What an annoying question. He started to write:  
James and Lily Potter, Petunia and Vernon Dursley and Sirius Black.

_Do you have any siblings?  
No._

_Were you__ always treated well by your parent(s) and/or guardian(s)?_

_What kind of question is that?_ Harry inner voice raged. _I really don't want Malfoy, of all people, to know about my childhood! _Harry's misery was suddenly interrupted by Malfoys parchment glowing red. Harry saw him stiffen and glare menacingly at a question. Oh, what Harry wouldn't give to know what Malfoy was trying to hide. _But I will know _he smirked. Now it suddenly wasn't as bad answering the question:  
James and Lily Potter: Yes.  
Petunia and Vernon Dursley: No.  
Sirius Black: Yes.

_If 'no', how were you not treated well?_

_Oh__ dear god!_ thought Harry, as he groaned and rested his head in his palm. What had he done to deserve this? His groan had earned him a look and smirk from Draco, who, Harry realized, sat way to close to him. But then again, looking down at the chain, they couldn't really get much further either. _Well, there's really no way around it…_ And he started to write:  
In 10 years of my life I slept in the cupboard under the stairs. I was bullied…

Every time he thought that now, he _must_ have written enough, the ink just vanished as he tried to answer the next question. Every time he tried to use another word than the obvious, to sound less whiny, the parchment glowed red. At last, Harry was almost ready to rip his hair out with frustration. He really, really didn't want Malfoy to read this. But when he looked at the other boy out of the corner of his eyes, it didn't seem like he had noticed Harry's distress. No, Malfoy looked every inch as frustrated as he felt. _He even bites his lower lip._

When he finally was done with, what he would like to call 'the-evil-and-completely-unnecessary-childhood-questions', he turned his attention towards the next, while chewing on some sandwich.

_What do you think of your detention-companion?  
I hat…  
He wasn't even done writing the word, as the parchment grew angry-red. Harry choked on his sandwich. His eyes grew wide as he watched the 'hat-' disappear. Harry swallowed and groaned yet again, as Malfoy's parchment grew as red as his own. They glared at each other and both turned towards their now-normal-colored parchment. Harry sighed and planned on another word-war with the veritaserum-paper. He armed himself with a dipped pen, but then paused._

_If I don't hate him, then what?_ He frowned and began eyeing the blond in question. The slightly pointy chin, the flawless skin, the never-bushy eyebrows, the straight nose. Then he realized. _I've seen that face radiating fear and heard that voice keeping my cover, saving my life. And without his wand, I'd never been able to defeat Voldemort, so I guess I owe him that. And he couldn't kill Dumbledore. _His body stiffened as it hit him. _I actually have a tiny amount of respect for the prat, don't I?_ Redipping his quill, he sighed as he started writing and couldn't help feeling that he was writing his own death sentence.

As he finally put his quill down, after finishing the more or less embarrassing and personal line of questions, he noticed a change. Malfoy's steady scribbling had also ceased. Then he heard McGonagall's confident stride on the stairway and looked at his wristwatch. His eyebrows rose. They had spent the entire lunch break, and then some, in hands reach of each other and they hadn't ended up in the hospital wing. _I wonder if we can continue that for… let's see… nearly 23 hours? _

"Now, young men, have you finished your questions?" They both nodded courtly as the headmistress once again placed herself behind the desk. "Then you may swap scrolls." Harry could feel the reluctance in the air and held tightly around his answers. Then Malfoy sighed, sensible enough to acknowledge his defeat, and handed Harry his scroll. He took it, and pushed his own towards the blond. _Well then, here goes…_

**End of chapter one.**


	2. Puzzles and Confusion

**A/N:** A big thank you to everybody who put this story on their 'story-alert'-list and to clarex-ama, Amaterazu Setsuko and LauraGene for reviewing. Thank you for giving this a chance.  
It would be wonderful if you could tell me if you like this story, so please review, it'll be rewarded with a freshly baked cookie! :D

Beta: Amaterazu Setsuko – Thank you for the quick read-through, honey!

Enjoy!

_Thoughts  
"spoken words"  
--- change of POV  
'__reading_'

**...::Chapter Two: Puzzles and Confusion::..**

Chapter rating: K+

_Words: 2213_

Draco gave an exasperated sigh, as he saw the handwriting. But then he remembered the reluctance and agony in which Potter had written this, and thought he could deal with a little scrawl. _I definitely won't be the only one who's been forced to write out the truth, for your rival to read. _

Draco almost frowned as he saw the name Sirius Black on Potter's list of guardians. He saw that particular last name rarely these days, and always in the context of his mothers family. He and Potter were, crazy as it seemed, actually distantly related, even if not by blood. He had known about Black being Potter godfather before, of course, _but why am I first realizing our distant relations now?_ Draco pushed the question away and continued reading, wanting to know the other boys secrets.

And the question was quickly forgotten as he saw the tiny letter 'No' that made Draco flabbergasted. _Why would anybody want to treat Potter badly? _He pondered, but then he wanted to smack himself. _I – of all people – should know. I've spent years doing that! And I did it, because… _Draco chose to blame the fact that he couldn't come up with an immediate answer on his eyes falling upon the next scribbled letters. _Potter slept in a cupboard?!?_

Deep in his own thoughts, swirling with information he had no idea how to react upon, Draco didn't notice a similar facial expression on the boy beside him.

---

Harry could hardly believe what he read, but he knew it was the truth. _And it certainly explains how the only emotion he seems to show is anger or disdain… or fear… _Harry shook his head mildly, not wanting to think about the war. He knew Narcissa loved her son more than anything else, and it was because of that love everyone could now sit and safely groan over homework and the likes. _But why hadn't she showed that love?_

Malfoy had been both neglected and drowned in attention. Attention from his parents financial connections during social gatherings at the Manor, showed off like a recently achieved artefact, attention from an endless row of personal teachers, forcing him to memorise French grammar, long classical piano pieces, impeccable etiquette and manners. Teachers, who was not back down from using physical punishment if necessary.

The first time Malfoy had been punished by a teacher, he had been 6 years old. Seeking protection and comfort from his father had only given him a "Malfoys do not cry and disgrace themselves because of a little pain. We are purebloods. Learn from your teachers and hide your flaws. We are not to be seen as weak".

All he ever learned was the smooth, cool, controlled surface that was the Malfoys' all important impression to give.

Harry's head was spinning, old prejudices colliding with the immaculate handwriting on the parchment before him. But then his mind froze and he had to blink several times. He had reached the question asking Malfoy about himself. Harry read.

'_I have many contradicting feelings towards Potter. I hate his stubbornness. I hate his hero-complex. I hate that he isn't an arrogant bastard. I hate his modesty. I hate that he always has to be so nice. I hate that he is so _loved _and worshipped. I hate his glasses. I hate that I admire his courage and honesty. I can't believe I'm writing this. I hate feeling grateful for him saving my life, returning my wand without a fuss, and testifying on me and my mother's behalf like the perfect hero and poster boy for justice and truth. I hate that I have no idea how to act around him or how I _want_ to act around him. I hate that he has always been able to make me lose my composure. I hate that he is not easier to hate. I respect him and I hate knowing that this is actually true, because it would be so much easier just to hate him._'

If his palms didn't hurt because of his nails digging into them, Harry would be positive he was dreaming.

---

Draco couldn't help glancing at the boy – no, man – beside him. Had the great Harry Potter really slept in a cupboard, been hunted down by his cousin and enslaved like a common house elf, doing chores and servicing muggles all around the clock? Seeing the broad shoulders the fate of the world had rested upon only made it that much more unbelievable.

Draco recalled the skinny little boy he'd met in Madam Malkin's so long ago and failing hard at impressing. Back then he'd just been a snobbish little child, using every possible opportunity to boast about himself and his family. He had changed since then, generally for the worse, but he hoped he had changed a little for the better as well. That he had made a few good choices in his life. That, of cause, depended on one's definition of 'better' and 'good'.

But Potter had changed far more drastically over the years. And this new Voldemort-Is-Finally-Dead-Potter had been willing to forgive, forget and move on with his life. _Even Pansy gets a nod from Potter now when they pass in hallways._ She had, somehow reluctantly but knowing it had to be done, apologized for wanting to hand him over to the Dark Lord.

Draco inwardly shook his head at himself. _I guess I'll have to settle with never solving the Potter-Puzzle…_ He let his eyes wander lower, to the next question in line, having no idea what to expect next. Draco almost choked as he read Potter thoughts concerning himself. Wide-eyed, he encountered sentences he never thought he would see written in Potter's nearly unreadable handwriting. '_I'm grateful he covered for me and glad he had the courage…_', '_I hope he has changed…_', '_I don't understand why he still calls Hermione a mudblood…_', '_I guess I don't really know him now, but before the war I hated everything he represented fiercely…_', '…_I respect him in some sort of twisted way now…_', '_It all kind of depends on if he decides to show some civility…_' and '_…, then I'd perhaps be able to forget the past and start over…_'.

Draco stared and almost groaned. This was _not_ making anything easier. _Would I really be civil towards the Golden Trio just to gain… what, even? Friendship? _Draco snorted silently. _Would I even want to? _Answers were not something Draco had a lot of these days.

---

"I don't see any eyes moving, so I presume you have finished reading." Harry's head snapped up, having completely forgotten McGonagall's presence. He nodded stiffly, forcing himself not to look at Malfoy seated next to him barely a foot away. _Damn, this is going to be so awkward._ When McGonagall had received a tense nod from Malfoy too, Harry caught out of the corner of his eye, she started describing their next assignment.

"The Quidditch pitch looks horrible, so you'll be moving the lawn and hopefully you'll be done by dinner. But I'll be gentle and let you use magic…" Harry sighed in relief, "However…" _God, I'm stupid, of course there's a catch_ "… because the soil of these grounds are so soaked in magic, only one spell will work. When you drink this…" McGonagall handed them each one small, identical, boring and clear vial. "…you, Harry, will know the words and pronunciation of the spell, while you," she turned towards Malfoy "will learn the, rather unnecessary complicated if I say so, wrist movements" Harry frowned, "But then how will we …" he gestured, not knowing how to continue the sentence, and McGonagall just gave him a little narrow smile while Harry saw Dumbledore's still twinkling eyes above her left shoulder. "You'll just have to teach each other, won't you?"

Both rolled their eyes, uncorked the vial and drowned it in one gulp, wanting just to get it over with.

---

As the smooth tasteless liquid ran down his throat, Draco thought he knew what was going on. _She wants us to cooperate, to accomplish something together so we can _bond_. I'm surprised I haven't vomited yet. Bloody Gryffindor tendencies._ Suddenly he felt the strangest sensation of knowledge butting its way into his mind. _So that's the wrist movements? That doesn't seem so difficult… But I have to teach Potter! _And that seemed more of a challenge. Putting it mildly.

McGonagall looked at them. "What are you waiting for? There's the door and I'm positive you both know where the quidditch pitch are. See you at dinner." The wooden chairs scraped against the floor as they stood. Then Potter, having completely forgotten about the chain, wanted to go the other way around one of the chairs, resulting in him almost tripping.

"What a brilliant demonstration of brain cells, Potter." He drawled sarcastically before he could help himself. _Great, just great. Why can't I ever control myself around him? That was not what I wanted to say, but there's no way I'm apologizing._ Potter sneered "shut up", passed the right side of the chair and strode quickly past Draco towards the door. Draco followed more slowly, but soon Potters quick stride across the office made the chain pull on his left ankle. "Can you please move in a more civilized tempo?" The familiar sneer and rudeness was still in his voice. _But at least it was worded as a question_ he thought. _I'm trying._ Potter's hands curled into fists and he slowed down a fraction. Draco sped up slightly himself. _See, McGonagall, I can compromise!_ He spat in his head.

When the door closed behind them and the stairs started to move they both looked away from each other defiantly, anger with a twist of awkwardness making the air thick. Draco questioned himself, feeling it wasn't doing to be the last time: _How am I possibly going to survive this?_ They emerged on the hallway and began walking the path to the front doors, towards the pitch, silently agreeing on a relatively brisk pace. _Something's missing_ he thought and looked down at the appalling chain. He realized he had been expecting harsh noises and a little resistance when it dragged across the cold stone floor, but none of that was present. _Magic_, he thought and shrugged inwardly.

As they dead-silently walked the deserted halls, Draco was immensely glad that it was a Hogsmeade weekend so they were less likely to receive annoying prodding questions about why they were walking beside each other. _And Pansy and Blaise are properly waiting for me in the common room._

---

Harry was positive the walk from the headmistress office to the grounds had never been so long. He was constantly aware of Malfoy at his right and he both looked forward to and dreaded reaching their destination.

They exited the castle and a breeze greeted them as they headed towards the pitch, keeping up the brisk stride. Harry stole a glance. _How can such a face be so void of emotion? It wouldn't kill him to smile a little, but then again, I don't think he has much to smile about._ Harry shook his head slightly. _Malfoy wouldn't want my pity._

At the pitch they tuned towards each other, the chain not allowing them to be more than barely 2 feet apart, and surprisingly, thought Harry, Malfoy initiated communication. The other stood defensively with his arms crossed leaning his weigh casually on one leg. "Potter, the words if you please." Harry couldn't decipher if the tone was mocking, forced, bored or something else. He drew his wand, saw Malfoy's gaze flicker towards it before meeting his gaze firmly again, and began twirling it, his fingers needing to be preoccupied.

"They're _'__inciderius gramentia etiam terra flora'_, got it?" Harry didn't mean to sound snappish, but his nervousness took control of his voice. _Why the fuck am I nervous? It's just Malfoy for goodness sake, it's not like he's gonna start hexing me and get himself expelled_. Malfoy gritted his teeth. "It's the first time I hear the incantation, Potter, would you care to repeat them once more?" His grey eyes shoot sparks and his was voice sharper now. Harry could almost feel the suppressed anger prickling on his skin due to their uncomfortably close proximity.

He just shrugged, wanting to appear calm, but he had the feeling that his frantic wand-twirling worked against him, and he still had no idea what to do with his other hand. He repeated the words and absentmindedly watched Malfoy's lips as they reproduced the pronunciation to perfection, unwillingly impressed that he had learned them already. _But he's always been second in class behind Hermione, so a little brain the git's gotta have._

"Now it's your turn to pay attention, Potter." Harry snapped back into focus, silently scolding himself for being inattentive in the presence of a Malfoy, which was all around stupid and dim-witted behaviour. But then he was completely put off, because the face opposite him was not emotionless any more. A slight smirk was tugging at his lips and the sharp eyes had their edge removed by confusion, but that was nearly covered by a sheen of superiority. _What the hell did I do?_

**End of chapter two.**

**A/N:** Remember – cookies to reviewers!


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